Burn Away the Scars
by environmentALY
Summary: After Ginny's death, the Golden trio is broken, the Weasleys are broken-hearted, and Hermione has lost the will to survive. Just as she gains the courage to live, it is shattered, and one Weasley will help her recover. Rating may change.
1. Ch 1: How it is

**A/N:** The rules of the game are simple: **if you read it, ****REVIEW**** it**! Yay! Haha. Thanks in advance for reviewing! –cough-

-Aly

Disclaimer: Not JK. ...Don't look so surprised. –smile&wink-

**Burn Away the Scars**

Chapter 1: How it is

Hermione was broken, in heart and spirit, a mere shadow of the once illustrious Gryffindor of prior years. She was 19 now, just a year after the war. She hadn't gone back to Hogwarts since the day of the Last Battle, where too many friends and acquaintances had fallen. Lavender Brown; Seamus Finnagin; Dean Thomas; Parvati's sister Padma Patil; Lee Jordan; Hannah Abbot; Alicia Spinnet; Cormac McLaggen; Cho Chang; Professors Trelawney and Sprout; Filch; among others of the Order of the Phoenix and even some Slytherins, that, as it turns out, weren't Death Eaters after all.

The Weasley family lived on, although devoid of two of their numbers. Worse, one of the dead Weasleys was none other than Hermione's girl friends, in some ways closer than either Ron or Harry—Ginny. This struck the Weasleys harder than the death of Percy, the-family-disowning-prat , although, granted, the death of one's son/brother is never a painless experience. Ginny was the "baby" of the family, the innocent little sister, the one her over-protective brothers would do just about anything for, and the only Weasley daughter in a hundred or so years. Now she was gone and her family and friends were finding it hard to cope.

Harry was heartbroken and refused to see either Ron or Hermione anymore, as they were too much of a reminder of what he had lost. Ron and Hermione, even though it had once seemed as though they were in love, had broken it off, too hurt by the war to continue.

Ron was prone to anger—Ginny had been his closest sibling—and his friendship with Harry and Hermione had been his stabilizer. With Harry's refusal to speak with either of them, the "Golden Trio" ceased existing _(A/N: for now!)_ and with it, Hermione and Ron's relationship ended. Memories once drawing them together now kept them apart—they didn't want to remember the fun times when in so much pain, and reminders of the constant struggle against Voldemort did nothing to lessen the pain.

The war had changed everybody, and the Golden Trio did not escape that. In fact, they probably suffered more than anybody else because of it. Ron was no longer the goofy schoolboy that Hermione had believed herself in love with. Harry suffered nightmares that had escalated to such a terrifying frequency and intensity that it was impossible for him to sleep at night without the aid of a Drought of Dreamless Sleep, but that didn't keep all the monsters away. As a result, he was drawn and moody in the days, jumping at the slightest sound and reacting violently to threats.

Hermione had seen these dramatic changes in her closest friends, and slowly she crumbled without their friendship. She couldn't bring herself to face the world that had so cruelly taken her best friends from her. So she sat in Ginny's room at the Burrow, crying into a pillow and sleeping on the bed that had been hers in summers past when Ginny was still alive, and Ginny's remained empty, dust collecting on its worn comforter.

The rest of the Weasley family trailed into the room from time to time, sometimes sitting by her and letting their grief overcome them, sometimes laying on Ginny's unoccupied bed and crying softly into the mound of pillows that still held her scent. Nobody had the heart to kick her out—not that they would, as she was like an adopted daughter, and now a girly presence to reside in the room of the only Weasley daughter. Mrs. Weasley sent up food with whoever had the willpower to approach the broken girl—often they couldn't get past the doorway without breaking down and joining Hermione in her misery, so they ended up levitating it through the always open door to the nightstand by Hermione's bed.

She slept in clothes that were reminders of her friend—a pair of Harry's green laid pajama pants, and one of Ron's Chudley Cannons t-shirts. During the day she changed into an old pair of Harry's jeans, shrunk to fit her and another t-shirt of Ron's that her and Harry had gotten for Ron's birthday one year, saying "Bloody Hell--Flying Hippogriffs!" which was an inside joke between the three. A quick laundry spell kept the clothes clean (and no fading—the wonders of magic) and her five minute scalding hot showers in the early morning before the Weasleys awoke were habitual.

As days and weeks passed slowly by, her tears came less and less frequently, to be replaced with anger that Ginny, Harry, and Ron had left her, one permanently, and anger and disappointment at herself for not living.

She was impatient to leave, but not ready to; reluctant to leave, scared of losing the last connection she had to Ginny. In a way, she was scared of losing her grief, because it would finalize Ginny's death and she didn't want the acceptance.

Eventually, she supposed she would face those fears --she WAS a Gryffindor, after all-- but for now, that reality seemed too far away to consider and no matter how aggravated she was with her same routine and the monotony of post-war life, the empty feeling she had at the loss of the three people closest to her kept her hidden away in the room so devoid of true life.

**A/N: **I'd like to take this opportunity to mention that the game is still in motion, and you **must **abide by the rules of the game, which means you must **REVIEW**!

Also, thanks infinity bunches to my beta, marchingkatluvsmusic, who is the bestest buddy ever! Haha.

-Aly


	2. Ch 2: Three Months

**A/N: **The rules of the game remain the same if you _**READ**_it, you must _**REVIEW**_ it! (or, rather, you SHOULD or you OUGHT to because takes very little time and it earns you…well…I don't know yet, but it'll be good!)

Thanks to my TWO reviewers—wow that's a sad number! I'm expecting more this time! (please?) And of course, my lovely beta, Kat!

-Aly

**Disclaimer:** Still not JK. And I honestly hope you won't forget that. It would be sad if you did…I mean, really…

Chapter 2: Three Months 

She decided she would leave the room, just to go downstairs and escape the sameness of her life since Ginny's death. She was sick of the baby blue walls with pictures of the smiling Weasley family, of her and Ginny laughing in front of a muggle ice cream parlor, and more pictures of the four of them in various locations around Hogwarts, taken by Colin Creevey, and posters of Quidditch stars zooming around and winking from their spots on the wall. 

She was sick of the dusty floor, the closet and dresser filled with Ginny's clothes that likely would never be worn again. She was sick of the annoying whirring of the fan that Mr. Weasley had excitedly installed on Ginny's ceiling four summers prior that would randomly stop throughout the day, before stirring to life once again. 

She was sick of the open door and people tiptoeing past with breath held, trying to hold in their own sniffles and mask the pain in their eyes as they looked through the doorway at Hermione's defeated form. She was sick of delivered meals and strained conversations, of careful avoidance of any inquiries to their own lives following Ginny's death. 

More than anything, though, she was sick of being avoided. 

It wasn't a sudden decision—at least a week of careful examination of her mental and emotional capabilities to handle such a nerve-wracking expedition. She had been building up her courage and willpower to do this one small thing to move on, and a small bubble of hope that it would succeed had been building in her heart, no matter how she tried to suppress it. She wanted life but the guilt of Ginny's death still loomed over her delicate state. 

On the day she had given herself as her deadline, she stepped out of the room. The hall was empty, and her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was highly aware of all the small creaks of the house around her. She was nervous. Her steps were slow and careful as she approached the stairs and she paused for a moment, drawing in a deep, wavering breath before stepping down. The handrail was her lifeline, and she clutched it with sweaty palms and white knuckles as she descended the stairs and entered the living room with silent steps. 

The once loud Weasley family was gathered, spread out on the worn couches and chairs of the homey living room. Their faces were blank, stares empty, and not a word escaped their mouths. Their red hair seemed dull and lifeless instead of vibrant and cheery as it was…before. 

Mr. Weasley's arm was wrapped around a silent Mrs. Weasley, whose shoulders were shaking with hiccupping tears that were barely audible as she leaned against his side, cheek against his shoulder as he let her tears sink into his shirt. His eyes looked watery themselves. 

Fred and George were lying on the couch with heads at opposite ends, their hips touching as they fiddled with loose threads on the pillows behind their heads. Their faces held no hint of their smiles, instead looking morosely off into space. 

Bill and Fleur were on the loveseat, her head resting in his lap and her eyes were closed as he stroked her hair gently, but he wasn't looking at her—he, too, was looking at something in the distance, as if not aware of the world around him. 

Ron was sprawled across a chair with legs draped over one side and an arm thrown across his eyes, his other brushing the floor in a pendulum motion. The only Weasley absent was Charlie. None of them noticed her standing there with a shocked expression on her face.

She had forgotten what day it was, and, upon realizing the date, she drew in a wavering breath. Her carefully constructed willpower shattered as her frozen form crumbled and she let out a small whimper, barely audible, even in the heavy silence. She spun and ran back up the stairs with tears gathering in her eyes.

As she threw herself onto her bed, she released her sudden tears, and in her emotional breakdown, did not notice a redhead enter the room behind her. He sat down on the bed beside her, and she barely felt the warm hands gently rubbing her back in circles as she cried. Eventually her tears subsided and she lay still, drifting off to sleep as the hands continued their rhythmic movement.

She woke up as the sun started its long descent to night, and felt the pressure of eyes watching her. She turned her head to see a worried-looking redhead sitting on the chair beside her bed and watching her with deep blue eyes. She regarded him solemnly for a moment before his soft voice penetrated her thoughts. 

"Are you alright?"

She shook her head—no—and closed her eyes in an attempt to hold back the tears that were in imminent. He reached towards her and, half-laying beside her _(A/N: think butt still in chair)_, wrapped his arms around her. She turned her body and buried her head in his chest, clutching his shirt between trembling hands as she murmured, "I miss her, Charlie." 

He felt his heart break a bit at her frank words, spoken with such sadness. He wrapped his arms more firmly around her waist as her tears fell into his shirt, pulling her closer to him as he shifted so that he was lying beside her and rubbed her back. He murmured into her ear, "I know, Hermione. I miss her too." 

He felt a tear run down his cheek and land in her mass of curls. His voice cracked as he continued, "But…Hermione, love, she wouldn't want you to waste away in this room with only memories for company. She'd want you to live. It's been three months, after all. Three months of wishing and missing her, but that doesn't change anything. The situation is no different today than it was then—she's gone. You can't stop your entire life forever—you'll eventually die, and never have known anything different."

He felt her nod her head against his chest before she spoke again. "I know that, and it makes me feel pathetic. I am sick of sitting here in my own misery and feeling as if I'm the only one suffering from her death when I KNOW I'm not! It hurts…a lot…to see your family, gathered in silent grief, unable to move on and know that I have the same problem." 

She paused, drawing back to look into his eyes, and Charlie remained silent, listening for all she had to say. He knew she needed to say it to somebody—her closest friends were not listening, and he was there and offering comfort. "If she were still here…" her voice faded into nothing. 

She took a shuddering breath before continuing. "…She would do everything in her power to make everything normal again. But she's not and…It's been only three months…but these three months have been an eternity. It's hard to imagine years without her…or them…if three months alone are that painful and…empty. For awhile I continued as usual, but it was horrible, being separate from the only people I have left. And everybody was hurting—the War took so many. I supposed Harry is hurting more than me. He refuses to talk to either me or Ron. Ron…" she sighed. 

"He's not…who I though he was and he's no the boy I've known for eight years. I used to like him…love him even…but now I don't KNOW anymore! He confuses me and I'm so mad at the both of them for deserting me. I mean… I loved Ginny too! She was my best friend and, in essence, my sister too! I don't get it—I don't _want_ to lose my other best friends of eight years—EIGHT years, Charlie!—when I just lost my best friend and my parents and so many others."

She choked back a sob as she continued, pulling back from his embrace and sitting up, scrubbing at her face furiously with the palm of her hand. He sat cross-legged to face her as she continued to bare her soul to him.

"But there's nothing I can do now. I just wish….I had a time-turner, so that I could go back and save her. I wish I did when I could have…stopped her before things got out of hand…everything would be so much different. I wish—"she swallowed abruptly, her voice almost a whisper now. "I wish that it had been me instead of her." 

She swallowed again as tears sprung to her eyes. Charlie immediately pulled her to him, looking down at her with sparks of anger in his deep eyes. He struggled to hold back his anger as he said, "Hermione, don't blame yourself for this. It's not your fault—NONE of it is! If anything, it's Voldemort's fault for the war; the Death Eaters fault for the attack; Harry's fault for leaving you two to fend for yourselves; both Ron and Harry's for not standing together with you when all three of you need each other." 

He took a breath and felt his anger subside into pity and a strong urge to make her understand that she couldn't hold herself accountable for all the wrongs of this world. "Don't blame yourself for Ginny's death—you're not the one who held the wand. You didn't take her life after torturing her in front of her closest friend. It's not your fault." 

He lifted her chin so that she was looking him in the eyes. Flickers of emotions ran across her face before settling back into attentiveness. She would listen to what he had to say, and for that, he was grateful.

"You didn't ask for this fate, for this life, for this war, and you can't keep blaming yourself for any of that. The people that the Death Eaters killed didn't deserve to die—but neither do you. You are still living, don't kill yourself with grief and blame because you did NOTHING. You are a witch—a bloody brilliant one at that, the smartest in your generation. You're a great friend, you're brave, you helped save the wizarding world at great personal risk, and you will be one of the people to restore it to what it will be." 

She looked up at him, eyes glittering with emotion. "Thanks, Charlie," she whispered and pecked him on the cheek. "I needed that, so much."

He smiled, "Anytime, Hermione. Come on now, we should get downstairs." 

She shook her head. "Not today."

He sighed and dropped it—for now. "Tomorrow, then?"

She looked up at him and he could see the wheels turning in her head. "Maybe," she replied.

His smile grew and he got up, then lightly kissed her forehead and left the room, turning just before entering the hallway and looking back at her. "I'll hold you to that," he laughed and went downstairs to join his family.

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed this chapter. BY THE WAY-- **THE GAME IS STILL ON! **_**REVIEW!**_ (s'il vous plait!)

-Aly


	3. Ch 3: Breakfast with the Weasleys

**A/N: ****The game is still on.** You know the deal!

I'm sorry to the people that have been so kind as to review—the whopping 2 of you that don't happen to know me in real life. Thanks for reviewing and **PLEASE** continue to do so!

As always, ever gratefulness to Kat for fixing this chapter & her sound advice…I'll work on it , I promise!

-Aly

**Disclaimer:** Hi. My name is Aly. Nice to meet you.

Chapter 3: Breakfast with the Weasleys

Charlie was true to his word—the next day at 9:30, he entered her room and cleared his throat. She looked up from her book and he noticed a hint of a real smile on her face before the sad smile of three months returned. He grinned broadly, inclined his head and offered her his hand. "M'lady?" he asked with that goofy grin on his face.

"I don't know Charlie, I mean, after yesterday, I don't know if I'm ready after all," she said, uncertainty obvious in her voice.

"Hermione Granger, I have every intention of making you join the family at the table for breakfast this fine day."

"But, Charlie—"

"Don't _'but, Charlie' _me, Miss Granger! How long has it been since you have actually eaten a meal at a TABLE with more than one person?" She opened her mouth to reply but Charlie cut her off. "Nope! Come on, we're late as it is!"

She shook her head and looked down at her book once again and became immersed in its pages. Charlie smiled and drew his wand out of his pocket, waving it and saying mentally '_Wingardium Leviosa'_. He held her suspended in the air as her book thudded to the ground and she looked towards him, glaring and folding her arms across her chest as she hung face-down in the air. She refused to give him the satisfaction of pleading to let her down.

"Clever witch," he laughed softly to himself and pulled her floating form towards him before releasing the charm, causing Hermione to fall limply across his shoulder. He felt her body stiffen, but she remained silent.

"Oh, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…I did tell you I would hold you to it, and I am going to follow through with my word."

"Char—"she began, but he didn't let her finish, instead disapperating with a soft _pop_.

"CHARLIE!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, hearing him _pop_ into the kitchen.

"No need to yell, Mum, I'm right here," said Charlie, turning to face his mother with a grin on his face as he set Hermione on the floor and shifted her so that she was facing his mother as well. Mrs. Weasley's eyes grew wide in shock and tears began to pool in her eyes as she enveloped Hermione in a hug. Charlie released her wrists and his smile grew wider. He had accomplished his goal.

"Hermione, dear!" was all Mrs. Weasley managed to say before she started to cry.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry…" said Hermione in a weak voice as she also broke down into tears.

"I know, dear, I know." Charlie mentally thanked his mother and left them to join the rest of the Weasley's in the dining room, leaving Hermione and his mother to talk in the kitchen. He knew that Hermione would stay for at least one breakfast, and that was good enough for him.

The rest of the Weasley's were perplexed as to why Molly had not arrived at the table yet but they shrugged it off and continued to eat.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley was fixing Hermione a cup of tea to calm the girl down as she continued to sob quietly.

"Hermione, Hermione, its okay, really, it is. We understand, dear. It's been hard on all of us," said Mrs. Weasley, setting the cup of tea down in front of Hermione and sitting beside her.

"Mrs. Weasley…I didn't…I'm so sorry…for everything…" said Hermione into her mug.

"Hermione Granger! You have _nothing_ to be sorry for! We are **family**! Family sticks by each other through everything and you have _always_ been a part of this family and that does **not** change! You needed us, and it has not been an issue. We miss you though, now more than ever, it is important to keep family close." Her voice softened and slipped into the concerned mother tone.

"Hermione, dear, its okay to be sad, but you need to live. At least come to meals with the family. That's all I ask of you, Hermione, because there is nothing you need to be forgiven for," said Mrs. Weasley. Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and offered Mrs. Weasley a tiny smile—because that was what Charlie had said as well, and she thought they might have a point.

She was happy—really happy—that they didn't blame her for Ginny's death and it meant a lot to her to be relieved of a little of her guilt.

"Now, Hermione, dear, come with me and eat with the family," said Mrs. Weasley kindly, taking Hermione by the hand and leading the girl into the dining room.

"Molly—"began Mr. Weasley as she entered, but stopped upon seeing the girl behind his wife.

"HERMIONE!" yelled the twins joyously and bounded up to envelope her in one of the biggest bear hugs she had ever been given. They had been too busy with their shop to come home and it had been at least a week since she had seen either of them.

Mr. Weasley was smiling broadly as he got up to stand behind Molly, who was crying once again. Charlie couldn't hide his grin.

Fleur looked surprised, but there were tears in her eyes. Bill squeezed her hand and then released it, and joined Fred and George in hugging Hermione. He looked over his shoulder at Charlie and Charlie nodded, before joining the hug as well.

Hermione was crying, Mrs. Weasley was crying, and by now Fleur was crying as well, seeing the reunion of the Weasley's. Ron had left not two seconds after seeing Hermione. He couldn't face her yet.

Hermione looked around at the grinning boys around her, and not seeing the one person she longed to see most, felt pain blossom in her chest again. "Where's Ron?" she asked timidly.

Fred's eye's flashed in anger as he yelled out, "That bloody GIT! I can't BELIEVE him!" and he released her, turning towards the stairs.

"NO!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY, SIT DOWN THIS INSTANT! Just because your brother—"

"Is being a bloody ARSE!" snapped George.

"LANGUAGE!" yelled Mrs. Weasley. "JUST BECAUSE YOUR BROTHER IS ACTING LIKE AN IMMATURE BRAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU DO TOO! We should be happy! Hermione is back with us! And here you are, about to leave her when she has just truly returned! How **dare** you ruin this?"

Fred's face drained of color. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled. Bill was seated again with Fleur's hand in his, and Charlie was standing next to Hermione protectively, not failing to notice the pain on her features. George was standing next to Fred facing his mother and Mr. Weasley was standing behind her a bit, and he looked disappointed in his sons.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to," snapped Mrs. Weasley with arms crossed over her chest.

Fred turned to Hermione with shame in his eyes and said quietly, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have—"

Hermione shook her head and smiled at him gently. "Its okay, Fred. I know you just wanted this to be a complete reunion." He nodded and he opened his arms to her and she stepped into his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder. They stood for a moment then released each other.

Hermione stepped back next to Charlie and he pushed her towards a seat next to his, in between him and Bill and across from Fred and George and the empty seat that would have been Ron's. She swallowed and looked at Charlie for support. He offered her a small smile and began to eat. Bill leaned towards her and whispered in her ear, "It's good to have you back, 'Mione."

With that, the family—for that is what they were, in this moment—continued their meal as if Hermione had always been at the table.

**A/N:**

So, **the game's still on, but it seems nobody's playing.**

This makes me sad. REALLY sad.

I mean, how am I supposed to read your mind and see what you're thinking of this fic so far?

Should I continue it? Is it morbidly depressing? Does it make you cry? Does it not make ANY sense at all? Where do you think this is heading? Do you have any predictions? Is it clichéd? Is it original, well-written, poorly written, etc? Does it have bad grammar? Is there anything that doesn't fit? Am I even a good writer?

…these are the questions that can only be answered by YOU!

**Please take the time and review!** (I mean, really, how much longer does it take?)

-Aly

_COMING UP:_ You get to see what is going on with Ron and then somebody that you should be happy to see will be back! You probably won't be very happy to see them though after what they do… And Hermione makes a big decision, maybe for worse… **REVIEW & you'll find out sooner! ** (I'm thinking a total of 5 reviews for this chapter may speed it along by a day at least!)


	4. Ch 4: Ron's Letter

**A/N:** THE GAME IS STILL ON! Mwahaha –wink-

**Please review**, yadayada.

-Aly

Chapter Four: Ron's Letter

  
Ron was stewing in his room. After three months of not having Hermione in his life, it was a shock when she suddenly showed up on the anniversary of Ginny's death. The night before, he hadn't been as clueless as he had seemed, and had seen her come downstairs through partially covered eyes. He hadn't reacted, wanting to see what she would do.

His waiting was rewarded when, seconds later, she fled back up the stairs to the confines of her room. He closed his eyes, scoffing at her lack of bravery—Gryffindor, indeed!—and her lack of respect for the family, especially Ginny and himself. On the night of the anniversary of Ginny's death, Hermione only showed lack of caring and respect for his dead sister by not spending the time with the remainder of the family. Himself, because she had just given up on their relationship and he had always expected her to be there for him, never leave his side.

He scowled. He couldn't believe that she had the audacity to show up the morning after running away from the gathering to remember Ginny and simply waltz into breakfast like she had never left.

All these months he'd been waiting for her to show up, crying to him, and needing his shoulder. And he would be the perfect boyfriend to her, and she would be an even better girlfriend to him. She would never leave his side again, and they would be just like the days before the final battle, and the Golden Trio would be whole again.

Then when they emerged into the broken wizarding world, they would be welcomed warmly and with praise, and she would be his wife to show off to the world. Then finally, their dreams from years ago would be true. They'd be famous and happy, in a perfect world, with children and a happy family. They would not remind each other of the horrible years past, and it would be as if Ginny never died.

But she had to ruin that by never coming, never crying into his arms, instead letting him wallow in his own misery with no girlfriend and no sister. How proud of herself she must be, he thought to himself bitterly.

"ARGH!" he screamed, slamming his fist against the wall next to his owl's cage. The owl hooted angrily at him and he glared at it. "Shut up stupid bird!" he growled at it.

The owl puffed up its feathers and returned his glare. He breathed out slowly—he had an idea. He smirked and sat down at his desk, grabbing a piece of parchment and dipping a quill in his inkpot before starting to write.

A moment later he was finished, and grinning smugly to himself. "Hey, Pig!"

The owl lazily opened an eye to glare in his direction. He sighed. It wouldn't do to have an angry owl when he needed it to run an errand for him.

"C'mon! I didn't mean it!" If he didn't know better, he could have sworn the sound that the owl made in response to that was a scoff.

"Really, Pig, I didn't mean it!" He protested as the bird closed its eye again.

"I'll give you some owl treats?" he offered, resorting to bribery. The owl opened an eye and looked at him as if weighing its options. Finally it gave a hoot and he opened the cage, giving it three owl treats as he tied his letter to its leg. "You know where to take it." He said and the owl took flight.

He sat down at his desk and looked out the window, dreaming again of the future that would never occur and waiting for the one person who took his side to write back. From there, who knew, maybe Hermione would see his anger at her for deserting him when he needed her.

Harry Potter was drowning in grief. He knew exactly how many days had passed since _her_ death. Hours haunted him, minutes taunted him, days of never-ceasing horrible memories swamped his existence so he never quite knew when he was awake or asleep. For all he knew, the world outside his darkened apartment might as well be a difference galaxy.

He closed his eyes and sighed, breathing in the musty scent of dust, trash, decaying food, and his own sweat. Images flashed before his closed eyes—Hermione with eyes wide screaming for him to come quickly, Mrs. Weasley's tear streaked face and white knuckles as she clutched the limp hand of her only daughter, Madame Pomphrey with sorrow etched across her face saying she could do nothing because _she_ was already dead…

A familiar tapping on his window brought him out of his morbid reverie. _Taptaptap_. He groaned and stumbled off the beaten up couch and to the window. He moved the curtains, stirring up dust, and opened the window, letting in blinding morning light and a dry breeze.

The owl swooped in and landed on the dropping-covered perch. He closed the blinds and turned to the bird.

The bird watched him through yellow eyes as he untied the string and grabbed the letter before tossing it a single owl treat. He unfolded the letter and skimmed through it quickly, growing more and more agitated with every word.

He scribbled his reply on the back of the parchment and re-tied the string to the bird's leg, opening the blinds to let the bird fly off yet again after barely a moment's rest.

He hastily shut the window and blinds and stalked off to get ready for one of his few excursions outside of his flat. But this would be no leisurely visit, of that he was certain.

Ron smiled to himself upon reading the hastily written reply of his best friend, whom he'd been corresponding with since Ginny's death about recent occurrences. This event was big though, and only Harry understood the extremity of the situation.

He read through the reply again, comforted by the fact that at least one person saw it is way.

_"I'll be there—wait for me._

_-Harry."_

Harry showered quickly and got dressed, then, with a last look at the dingy apartment, apparated to the Weasley's.

**A/N: **Thanks as always to my lovely reviewers! ALL FIVE OF YOU!! You're the best because you made me feel very good about this! I don't think this will ever get to the happy bit if I am never happy with the lack of reviews!

As always, thanks muchly to my beta, Kat- we're losers who lost our nuts (and butts if you must know). I love you x infinity!

**The game is still on…REVIEW!** I'm keeping with the at least five reviews before an update.

-Aly


	5. Ch 5: Let Me

**A/N:** I beg of you! DON'T KILL ME!! I'm so, so sorry that I haven't updated. I'm not going to waste your time by making you wait any longer, so here's the …very…anticipated chapter five!

Thanks to YASMINA for reading through this one, since I put it on a rush and Kat isn't so good at the rush thing, haha. Love you both!

Aly

P.S. Review please!

Chapter Five: Let Me

The conversation in the dining room was fairly restrained—nobody wanted to say something that would cause Hermione to retreat back into her shell. Therefore, the conversation stuck to more recent topics. Fred and George told, in great detail, their more recent exploits and experiments, to which Hermione listened with a small smile crossing her face and an occasional laugh. Each time her tenuous laugh sounded out, the other occupants of the table would turn to each other with grins on their faces.

As the family sat laughing downstairs, Ron paced uneasily in his room, waiting for Harry to appear outside. He paused at his window and squinted outside.

_Pop!_

"Aha!" He said, opening his window. "I'll be down in a moment. Meet me out back."

Harry nodded and walked towards the back of the house. Ron slammed his window shut, and dashed down the stairs, clutching his wand with white knuckles. The family looked up from their meal, confused, as he pointedly ignored them and disappeared down the hallway and out the back door, slamming it shut and quickly casting a silencing charm around him and Harry.

"What should we do about this?" Harry asked.

"Just show them that they're being ridiculous and Hermione needs to leave, once and for all! She's just a burden," snarled Ron.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to be more reasonable than his hot-headed friend. "That sounds good to me, too, Ron, but is that really the best decision? We don't want to do something we'll regret." Even though he was annoyed that the Weasley's could so easily accept the girl that might as well have murdered _her_. But the part of him that had been best friends with Hermione since they were eleven was fighting against this assumption, and he knew without a doubt that Ginny would hate him for throwing that away with a possibly false assumption.

"Harry, you haven't seen her, sitting there as if—"he swallowed, "—as if Ginny… as if Ginny ...hadn't…" He trailed off, not wanting to say the words that could make Harry get that look in his eyes. Harry nodded.

"No, I haven't." Harry struggled to keep his voice even. "I'll go in there and try to talk to them. Please, stay here, Ron. Let me handle this. I'll come back out in a while."

With those words, Harry opened the door and stepped inside as Ron stood open-mouthed; knowing his only ally had left his side.

"Shite." He said, slumping down to the ground with his back against the now-closed door.

**A/N:**OMG I LOVEEE THE CHICAGO SOUNDTRACK! I'm listening to it right now! Mostly Cell Block Tango. I'm addicted.

Thanks for bearing with me! Thanks so much for reviewing and if you have the patience to wait for this! You deserve some sort of trophy! A CHOCOLATE TROPHY!!

Aly


	6. Ch 6: Apprehension

**A/N: **HELLO!

Okay, so I definitely wrote this at some crazy hour of the morning, and I haven't proof-read, nor had anybody else read it. This is basically the rough draft, but I'm too lazy to change anything. SORRYSORRYSORRYSORRY! I haven't updated in forever. I don't really have a good reason, other than I don't care much about fan-fiction lately, and I haven't written anything in a long time.

Hope everybody is having a great summer & enjoys this update, even if it's a load of 2AM crap. (:

Muchos amour,

-Aly

Chapter Six: Apprehension

Harry's steps faltered as the door closed behind him. He shook his head and summoned his shattered courage as he neared the kitchen. He inhaled deeply, finally emerging.

The conversation in the room fell as the Weasleys turned to look at Harry. Charlie reached for Hermione's hand as she abruptedly dropped her fork to her plate. "Stay," he breathed to her, eyes trained on the boy standing awkwardly in front of the table. Harry's eyes were wide, and he seemed to have forgotten his purpose. The twins eyed him suspiciously, and not even Mrs. Weasley dared to move towards the boy as he stood motionless, locked in a stare with Hermione.

He ran a hand through his tousled hair, and then cleared his throat. His voice still came out whisper-quiet. "Hello, everybody… Hermione…"

Mrs. Weasley was first to stand, moving towards him with arms open. "Hello, Harry! Good to see you!"

"No," he stopped her, holding out a hand. "I'm here to talk to Hermione."

"Oh…" Mrs. Weasley turned pink, and crest-fallen, returned to her seat. Mr. Weasley took her hand, murmuring quiet words of comfort as her eyes turned watery.

Nobody seemed quite sure whether or not to allow Harry to speak to Hermione.

"Hermione," Harry said, voice wavering, "I… need to have a word with you."

Hermione nodded, unsure. She was stiff in her seat. Bill's arm had moved around her shoulders, and Charlie still gripped her hand.

"Go," whispered Bill encouragingly. She glanced at him as he offered a grin, and then to Charlie. Charlie met her eyes, squeezing her hand as he smiled softly at the apprehensive girl.

"Go on, talk to him. See what he has to say for himself," he murmured to her, squeezing her hand again as she nodded slightly. She stood up, dropping Bill's arm from her shoulders, and stepping from behind the table.

Harry looked at her, and motioned her to follow him. Her eyes moved to the floor as she trailed behind him sheepishly. He paused in front of the stairs, and turned to her. His eyes looked misty.

"I… don't think…" he said quietly.

She offered him a small smile, nodding. "I understand. I don't think I can…" _talk about this in her room_, she finished mentally. Her throat wasn't cooperating with her words. Harry looked relieved.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, before Harry offered, "Side-Along?"

Hermione paused, watching his pleading eyes, before nodding. He held out his arm, and she gently placed her hand on top of his. Glancing at their hands, he closed his eyes and apparated them to a spot farther away from the Weasleys.

When they landed, Hermione opened her eyes and tried not to sway—she never did well with Side-Along Apparation—and glanced around them. A lump rose to her throat. They were at Godric's Hollow.

Harry looked around, nodding. "Follow me," he said, dropping his arm from under Hermione's hand, and turning from her. She swallowed, and stepped after him.

**A/N:** Sorry this is sub-par and short and blah. Whine in the comments?

Also, saw HBP! I cracked up really inappropriately, but what else is new? =P

-Aly


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